A poem I wrote -all rights reserved

Beach Glass by Kirk Dobson

I woke this morning on a beach,
Lying in the sand.
A piece of purple beach glass
was nestled in my hand.

I wondered where it came from,
sat up and looked around,
and there were many more of them
scattered on the ground.

My curiosity awoke,
my consciousness soon followed.
I slowly crept out of the sand
my body weight had hollowed.
The sun was rising in the East,
I walked that way and followed.

I seemed to be in some strange land,
that was not sea or wood.
The sea was wet, the woods were dark,
this middle place was good.

The trees were leaning towards the sea,
their roots caressed the water.
The water rushed in toward the trees,
with all their driftwood fodder.


There were some boulders in my way
I could not go around.
I skipped along the tops of them
then floated to the ground.

I trudged ahead still heading East,
not knowing where I headed.
Not daring to turn left or right,
toward areas I dreaded.

I spotted a small silver fish
slap-flapping in the sand,

I carefully bent down
and gently placed him in my hand.

His flapping ceased, he stared at me
in quiet desperation.
"Please help me" he said, in a form
of fish communication.

I took him to the water and
I softly set him free.
I never will forget him,
though he won't remember me.

I started walking East again,
then noticed, with a frown,
the sun was headed Westward now.
I stopped and turned around.

At once, I noticed something gray
was splashing in the waves.
A mouse was floundering in the surf,
and badly needed saved.

I boldly walked into the surf,
my first time off the land.

I carefully bent down
and gently placed him in my hand.

I carried him up to the beach,
then towards the leaning trees.
I set him gently on the ground,
he shook a bit and sneezed.

He looked me straight into my eyes,
now, here's the strangest part,
I felt a wave of gratitude
down deep inside my heart.

A little further Westerly,
I came upon a bird.
Jumping and squawking noisily,
and acting quite absurd.




Her leg was tangled in a line
some fisherman had tossed.
If I could not remove it now
her leg would sure be lost.

I made some gentle noises
and approached her in the sand.

I carefully bent down,
and gently placed her in my hand.

I cautiously removed the line
around the seagull's leg.
She slowly limped away from me,
towards her nest and egg.

I smiled at her proudly,
I think she smiled back.
My heart was filled with joy again,
I hoped it wouldn't crack.


I tried to find the little fish
who's existence I had spared,
but all I saw was something
sparkling purple lying there.

As I looked down I saw a piece
of beach glass in the sand.

I carefully bent down
and gently placed it in my hand.

The sun was moving faster now
careening toward the West,
but I could not keep up with it,
although I tried my best.

Eventually, I came upon a
depression in the sand.
I recognized it as the place
I'd entered beach glass land.

I lay down on the sand that had
been moistened by my tears,
I realized this walk had taken
over eighty years.

the leaning trees were driftwood now,
the boulders turned to sand.
My crippled fingers barely hold
the beach glass in my hand.

And now I will drift off to sleep,
as we all must, my friend,
and only hope tomorrow
I'll wake up in beach glass land.



As I lay in my depression,
Softly sparkling in the sand,

God carefully bent down
and gently placed me in His hand.